The Curse of Camelot Read online

  On her tongue, Guinevere’s teat felt even bigger than it had looked. It also felt glorious. The soft flesh of her breast, topped off with a nipple so hard, it was barely pliable against her palate, forced her to draw the honey out of it. The syrup flowed so freely, Vivien hardly had to suck at all. She just opened her throat and let it be coated by the queen’s beautiful golden liquid.

  The more honey she swallowed, the stronger her body became. She could almost feel the nectar creep into her muscles and harden them, then enter her veins and intense the amount of blood surging through them. The folds around Vivien’s own cunt hardened, filling them with her own version of milk. Just the normal kind, of course, not the sweet, strength-invoking fuel the queen possessed, but the need to release it was more intense than it had ever been before.

  Without thinking, she used her new found power to push her queen backward onto the bed. Vivien mounted the mattress and shoved Guinevere’s legs apart. “The magic of your cunt overwhelms me, My Queen.”

  Guinevere laughed and propped herself up on her elbows. “You want to drink from there, too?”

  Vivien’s mouth and pussy salivated. She nodded. Her desperation to press her tongue inside her queen’s center had reached unbearable proportions. She lowered her head between Guinevere’s legs. The creamy, sugary aroma hit her, and she thought she might burst before she even got to taste it. From this proximity, Vivien could see each individual vein of Guinevere’s clitoris, how the swollen mound pulsed as it released droplets of her royal milk.

  Vivien parted her lips again, this time ready to take the queen’s throbbing nub into her mouth and roll her tongue over it until the she reached the point of no return.

  “Wait!” Guinevere held up a hand to stop her. “What is that I hear at my chamber door? Go, Vivien, check if the knights have arrived.”

  Vivien swallowed her instinctive retort. Why now, for goodness’ sake? Just as I was about to feel the cushions of your clit with my tongue. She momentarily closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe deeply to try and calm her pounding heart. She sprang from the bed and dashed over to the door, hoping Guinevere had imagined the knock.

  “Greetings, Sorceress.” Handsome Tristan, with hair and beard down to the nape of his neck, bowed as she opened the door to him, Gawain and Parceval.

  Vivien mumbled a response and stood aside for the knights to enter. She closed the door behind them and turned to see the sight that greeted the men. Guinevere lay sprawled on her back, her heavy breasts kept firm and upright from the volume of honey within them. Her legs were wide open, her swollen clit on display.

  “Parceval, Gawain, come here at once and drink from my breasts. Tristan, lay between my legs and lap at my cunt until the milk flows like a fountain. I have enough liquid of vitality within me tonight to feed an army. I promise you strength, stamina, and superiority on the battlefield after you have licked me, sucked me, and made love to me, which you will do, one at a time, with your long, hard phalluses until your seed pumps into my body.

  The knights bowed simultaneously, their armor and weapons clattering on the stone floor as they lowered themselves to one knee. They then rose, shed their armor and weapons until they stood in their under tunics, unable to take their eyes off the queen’s fuck-ready body. Each knight was primed for sex, their hardened cocks pushing against their undergarments.

  She shook her head. They weren’t even trying to avert their gazes from Guinevere. They want her. Pendant or no pendant, they want to fuck their queen. Realization hit the pit of her stomach with a thud. In creating the pendant, she hadn’t given her queen the power to claim the knights as her sexual servants. She’d facilitated the men’s wayward ways.

  A burst of clarity shot through her brain. The strength of three knights—especially post coital—would be enough to overpower Guinevere. Yes, seizing the pendant would scald their skin, but they’d find a way. They were Knights of the Round Table. Their valor was renowned throughout England. Surely, if they wanted to seize the pendant, they could.

  But do they want to? Or does this status quo they complain about so much really suit them perfectly? It certainly suited Guinevere.

  Seeing the knights, with their lean thighs, and arms still toned from their previous encounters with the queen, she understood Guinevere’s greed at summoning the trio and the discomfort she’d endured by wearing the pendant so long.

  Would I do the same if the pendant were mine? She bit her lower lip. Why, I shouldn’t even be entertaining such thoughts. The pendant belongs to my queen, she whom I vowed to forever serve.

  The thought soon escaped her head as she watched the knights duly walk over to Guinevere’s bed and take their positions as the queen had commanded.

  While the men had taken their time undressing, as soon as they were within inches of Guinevere’s body, they wasted no time in placing their open mouths upon her honey-filled bosoms and milk-drenched cunt. Guinevere widened her legs to allow Tristan to fit his broad frame between them and hooked her arms around the heads of Gawain and Parceval as they drank hungrily from her enlarged nipples. She rested her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Her face was a picture of serene pleasure.

  “Where would you like me, My Queen?” Vivien asked.

  Guinevere snapped her eyes open and gestured a pointing finger at the door. “Go, Sorceress!” she screeched. “Your duty here is done. Leave me in the company of my knights while you work on your spells. I want a new pendant with the power to sate the whole Round Table at once, and I need you to develop it.”

  “But, My Queen, my cunt is alight with desire. You said I could—”

  “Go, I order you!”

  Tears burned at Vivien’s eyes. She looked on at the scene on the bed before her, her mind tumbling with a torrent of emotion. The queen’s head lolled back onto her pillow, and her knees splayed wider as Tristan lapped at her pussy. Parceval’s mouth was locked firmly upon her breast, which he gently squeezed to stimulate the flow of honey. His eyes were closed, and he stroked his erect cock with his free hand.

  At Guinevere’s other breast, Gawain’s mouth lay open, catching the honey that ran from her nipple. Every few seconds, he licked the large teat with his tongue to maintain the flow. His tunic had ridden up, exposing him completely from the waist down, leaving it clear to see his lean backside moving up and down as he grinded against the bed. All four of them were oblivious to her.

  I might as well be invisible.

  Frustration and anger swelled within her. After all I’ve done. I made this happen. All this. This is my doing, and yet I’m being excluded from my own masterpiece at a time when my breasts are aching to be stroked and my pussy is wet with want. I must seek release, or I will surely go mad with desire.

  She shoved her fisted hands into the pockets of her dress. One of them closed around a long, thin object she had almost forgotten was in there. An idea struck her. It was crazy, pure insanity, but it might just give her the satisfaction she craved. The moans and grunts from the quartet on the bed seemed to fade into the distance.

  Yes, yes, it’s madness, but it’s the only way!

  She raced out the door and along the corridor toward the castle grounds. She’d have to act quickly if her plan was to succeed.

  Chapter Six

  “Aren’t they utterly disgusting?” whispered Fleur, her pale skin sheet white in the pitch darkness.

  Elaine wrinkled her nose. “Vile creatures,” she concurred in a hushed tone as she caught a glimpse of the werewolves pacing the courtyard beneath Guinevere’s chamber.

  Ragnell pushed her face in the gap between her friends’ heads, narrowly avoiding being poked in the eye by a twig from the bush that concealed their presence.

  One of the werewolves growled and shook its head. A stream of spittle flew from its sneering mouth and landed in a sticky pool by its huge, claw-ended foot. “Eurgh, no wonder Vivien magicked up these two rotters. No one would want to take them on in a fight. They’d tear you
limb from limb.”

  “I can’t believe she revealed to you the chink in their armor,” Fleur said. “Why on God’s earth would she give that secret up so easily?”

  “Remember, it wasn’t me she told,” Ragnell said. “As far as she was concerned, I was an ancient old hag from another county who posed no threat. If she’d have known it was me in transformation phase, there’s no way she would have let that out the bag. She was in her element, showing off how clever she was.”

  Elaine grinned. “Oh, the irony.”

  “Ssshhh, you two,” Fleur hissed. “If those beastly creatures hear us, we’ll be dogs’ dinner.”

  “Can’t they smell us?” Elaine asked. “I thought canines were meant to possess an acute sense of smell.”

  Fleur shook back her white-blonde hair. “Speak for yourself. I’m freshly bathed.”

  Ragnell suppressed a laugh. “No, they can’t detect us by odor at this time of night. Their canine abilities are compromised as the midnight hour approaches and they become more man than wolf.”

  Elaine pulled a face and flicked a moth from her arm. “They don’t look very man-like to me.”

  Ragnell tipped her head to the star-studded sky to gauge the time by the brightness of the moon. “I’d say there can only be a minute or two left until they shift into man form.”

  “Which one of us is going to mate with them?” Elaine asked.

  “Eurgh,” Fleur pulled a face. “Do we really have to?”

  “It’s the only way, Fleur,” Ragnell said. “You know what Vivien said. The only way to ensure the werewolves are unable to protect the pendant is during sex. One of us must fuck them while the others go to Guinevere’s chamber and steal the pendant.”

  Fleur crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I’m not doing it. My flower is still intact. I want my first time to be with my husband, not a man-wolf.”

  Ragnell sighed and looked at Elaine. “It’ll have to be one of us then.”

  “Listen. What’s that?” The shake in Fleur’s voice caught the immediate attention of Elaine and Ragnell. Three pairs of wide eyes gazed between the twigs as the shadow of a figure appeared within the courtyard.

  The wolves whimpered and sank to their haunches as the shadow loomed over them.

  “Lay down for your mistress, beasts!” The femininity of the voice belied the darkness from which it came. The owner of the voice stepped toward the cowering wolves. Her red velvet robe glowed brightly under the burning torches on the castle wall.

  “It’s Vivien the sorceress!” Elaine whispered. “What is she doing here at this time?”

  Before her friends had time to think of a plausible answer, one of the wolves threw back its wiry black head and released an almighty howl. Its fellow beast soon joined in the ear-piercing bellow. All three women winced and pressed their palms hard against their ears.

  “It must be midnight,” Ragnell mouthed.

  The wolves shook their heads furiously from side to side, so fast it became impossible to make out the point at which their canine faces turned into those of men. When their heads finally stilled, they bore human features, and yet their bodies, with four legs and coated in thick black hair, were still wolf-like.

  “Oh my goodness!” Fleur cried. “Those are sure the most hideous creatures to ever walk the earth.” Too stunned at the gruesome image before her, she forgot to whisper, but the scratches of the wolves’ claws on the ground drowned out her words.

  The hybrid beasts cried out into the air. What began as canine howls quickly became human-like as their bodies contorted. Hair gave way to flesh, limbs stretched until they formed the muscular arms and legs of men, and claws grew into the hands and feet of men.

  “To standing!” Vivien ordered.

  Fully transformed, the two men uncurled from their position on all fours until they stood upright. Even in man form, they were huge—well over six foot tall—and with shoulders so broad they were almost the width of two normal men. Black hair covered their legs, arms and chests, and their beards were dark and long. But more than anything, it was their eyes that gave them away as werewolves. Pale green and narrow, the glow from their irises pierced the darkness.

  “How may we serve you, Sorceress?” one of them asked in a deep, gruff voice, his head lowered in respect for his mistress.

  “Mate with me,” Vivien’s replied.

  Fleur’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my Lord, what is she doing?”

  “Quiet, Fleur!” Ragnell squeezed her friend’s arm.

  Elaine joined in the hushed conversation. “But why does she want the beasts to mate with her? Look at them!”

  “I have no idea,” Ragnell admitted. “But I do know she’s doing us a huge favor. At least none of us need do it. If they’re busy with her, then that gives us the perfect opportunity to creep in and steal the pendant!”

  Elaine’s mouth fell open, then curled into a smile. “Perfect.”

  The women huddled in as close as they could to get the best view of Vivien and her men wolves.

  The Sorceress loosened her dress, let it fall to the floor, and stepped out of it. She was completely naked. Her skin glowed brightly under the light of the lantern. One of the men licked his lips as if preparing for a delicious meal. He stroked his wiry beard and jerked his head as a gesture for the other man to take his position. His companion obeyed the silent order by standing directly in front of Vivien. He took her arms and wrapped them around his broad shoulders. Vivien allowed him to guide her, spreading her legs and bending her body forward, so her head rested on his chest.

  The other man stood behind her and took hold of her waist. He cocked his head downward to take a look between her legs and ran his hand over her cunt. She moaned in response, and he placed his hand once again between her legs. Rather than remove it immediately, he took his time, dwelling over the area. The women weren’t close enough to see what he was doing, but it was obvious from the sounds escaping Vivien’s lips that she was enjoying it.

  “Just get on with it, beast, and fuck me!” Vivien’s outburst made all three of them jump.

  “Goodness, she must want fucking just as much as we do,” Fleur said.

  “I’m not sure about that.” Elaine wrinkled her nose. “My clit sometimes feels like it might burst with frustration, but I could never volunteer to mate with one of those creatures.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Fleur stifled a giggle and pointed between the branches. “Look at the size of him!”

  “Sweet Lord!” Ragnell’s big brown eyes grew even bigger when she saw the man behind Vivien take his huge, erect cock in his hand.

  The women watched as he lined up his cock with Vivien’s cunt and entered her. The sorceress’s groans shattered the still night sky as she begged the wolf man to push harder and faster into her. He obliged, his grunts joining hers every time he thrust forward.

  “I think she likes it,” Elaine said.

  “I’m not surprised. Did you see his girth?” Fleur’s pussy started to ache.

  No one answered as the man released a sound, half roar, half howl. His buttocks clenched, and his thick legs shook.

  “He came inside her.” Elaine’s voice dripped with envy.

  Vivien, who was still holding herself up by having her arms draped around the other man’s neck, turned her head to the wolf man behind her. “I need to come!” she shouted at him. “Fuck me again. Harder this time.”

  Wolf man eased his dick out of her and walked around to her front. He took her arms from around the other man’s neck, and hung them over his own shoulders. His fellow man swapped positions and went around to Vivien’s back. His already hardened cock jutted out from a thick mass of dark hair. He held Vivien at her hips and slowly eased himself into her.

  “Faster, you idiot!” she cried. “How are you going to satisfy me otherwise?”

  After a few seconds of silence, in which the wolf man never stopped his controlled thrusts, he answered, “By fucking you slowly, Sorceress.”
r />   The second wolf man’s voice was smoother and calmer than his appearance suggested. “Tell me this doesn’t feel good.”

  Vivien tried to answer, muttering something incomprehensible, but proper words failed her. All she could do was moan in response, sounds which grew in intensity every time he pushed his cock into her.

  Ragnell cast a sideways glance at her friends. They both watched the scene before them with wide eyes and open mouths. She nudged them with her elbows. “Let’s go. We need to make a move while we’ve got a chance.”

  “We can’t go now,” Fleur said, not taking her eyes from Vivien and her wolf men. “It’s just getting to the good part.”

  “If we get the pendant, then you don’t need to watch someone else do it. You can be fucked yourself and feel exactly what she’s feeling right now whenever Parceval takes you to his bed.”

  Ragnell’s words motivated Fleur into action. “Yes, yes, absolutely. Let’s take our leave.”

  Ragnell gathered up her skirt and led the dash. Fleur and Elaine followed close behind, the sound of Vivien’s moans dampening as they ran away from the courtyard toward the castle’s entrance.

  ****

  “Can you see her?” Fleur’s breathy whisper tickled Elaine’s ear.

  “Here, look for yourself.” Elaine shifted so Fleur could peek through the narrow opening in the door to Guinevere’s chamber.

  Fleur closed one eye so she could better focus. What she saw made her jaw drop open.

  “Well?” Ragnell asked.

  Fleur leaned in closer. “Oh my goodness!”

  “Let me see!” Ragnell budged her friend out of the way to catch a glimpse for herself.

  The figure on the bed bore little resemblance to their queen at all. If it hadn’t been for the rush of red hair splayed on the pillow like peacock feathers, Ragnell would not have recognized Guinevere. Unlike the voluptuous siren of the woman they’d called their ruler for the last three years, the woman on the bed was thin and shapeless. Her breasts were little more than buds, and her hips were the same width as her scrawny waist.